


The Problem With Falling In Love In Late Night Bars

by JustJules



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Age Difference, Alternate Universe - Music, British Grantaire, Cosette And Enjolras Are Siblings, E is 20 and R is 28, F/M, Genderfluid Jean Prouvaire, Long-Distance Relationship, M/M, Multi, Other, Trans Enjolras, Trans Gavroche
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-21
Updated: 2017-01-28
Packaged: 2018-08-10 05:45:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 16,631
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7832632
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JustJules/pseuds/JustJules
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Grantaire is a musician from London, Enjolras is a history student from Paris. Can I make it anymore obvious?<br/>Based on every paniful Frank Turner headcanon you can possibly imagine.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Wake me from my sleep

**Author's Note:**

> Hello!  
> The title of the fic is from [this amazing song](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QZ1yZFHhf7w). To be honest the whole work is inspired by Frank Turner's songs and if you want to know how I imagine R just google Frank Turner and add George Blagden's eyes and hair. 
> 
> And big 'thank you' to my beta - [Nikki](http://www.imsorryfortheinconvenience.tumblr.com). You are great and I love you <3

''But this one will be the last! I promise, guys! But it's really interesting! They have dinosaurs and plants!”

Combeferre just couldn’t be more excited. He marched through the streets of London, map in his left hand and bag full of guidebooks in right. Next to him bounced Courfeyrac. He was wearing colourful shirt, rainbow shorts and a cheerful grin. Far behind them limped Enjolras. He was angry and tired. He hated London. He hated the way this city smelled, the traffic jams, crappy souvenirs, fish and chips. And English was horrible! But... After two days in the capital of United Kingdom, Enjolras finally realised that the main problem with London was that it wasn't Paris.

And so the four hours of walking and visiting every museum they could visit dragged on

“I am tiiiiiiired." mumbled Courfeyrac as he put his legs on Enjolras' lap “I can't feel my feet. Enjolras, give me a massage. I must have energy to dance on the concert."

“No way. Plus, when I said that I am tired, you told me that I am always complaining.”

“Because you are, Enjy-Benji! You just want to be in your flat with your books and coffee!”

“That's not true!”

“Oh of course, you also go to the Musain and sometimes you visit university. “

“Hmpf!”

“Courf is right.” Combeferre put his hands on Enjolras' shoulders “Try to smile. We are in London and we want you to be happy. But you are not helping us.”

"But guys! You wanted to be here not me! Just go to that concert and let me live."

"Ahhh concert!! Can you believe it?!? I am going to his concert!!! I can't wait! I've got all his CDs and t-shirt and I totally love this guy! He is just so amazing and his songs are the best! Combeferre, aren't you happy?" screamed Courfeyrac just like he had miraculous regained his energy. His cheeks were red and hair even more dishevelled than it was possible.

"Of course I am happy, 'Fey. I am just worried that Enjolras will be even more bored without us.." The taller man looked at the blond "Are you sure you don't want to go with us? I bet we can still buy a ticket."

Enjolras shook his head "It's okay. I will go to some museums and then I'll return to the hotel and wait for you. Plus I am not a big fan of his music."

"Enjy, you don't even know what kind of music he plays." Courfeyrac snorted

"Of course I know! Pop!"

"It's folk, you idiot."

"Okay, okay, guys! We go to the concert and you go to the museum! Happy? Great!" Combeferre sighed and put his hands on both Courfeyrac and Enjolras' shoulders "Now please let me check the buses. Courf, come here."

Enjolras watched his friends look at the map and the timetable on the bus stop. He stepped aside from them and put on his sunglasses. Of course he didn't tell them the truth. They would never let him do it. Combeferre would probably get grey hair if he knew about his plans.

"So are you ready, guys? You'll be late..." He bit his lower lip. _Don't act like you are nervous. Don't act like you are nervous..._

"Enjy is right! We only have two hours! Ferre, let's go!!!"

Combeferre looked distressed at Enjolras once again. "You sure you'll survive without us? You can go with us or I can stay with yo-"

"Just go. Please. I am twenty years old for god's sake."

"You are nineteen."

"Only nineteen but my mind is older." Enjolras winked at Courfeyrac "Go and don't worry about me. I'll buy souvenirs for Amis and try not to start a riot in front of the Buckingham Palace."

"Don't even joke like this, please. You are unpredictable sometimes." Combeferre wrinkled his forehead "But okay, maybe you're right... Maybe I shouldn't worry about you that much"

"Totally. Now let's go, Ferret," Courfeyrac mumbled and tugged his boyfriend's sleeve "our bus is here!"

Enjolras pushed both of them slightly to the vehicle. He was smiling. He was free. Finally! He just couldn't wait to do what he wanted for even more than three hours (which were like a gift from gods). He waved at his friends when they disappeared onto the bus. Enjolras laughed quietly and headed to the tube station.

One thing young Parisian liked about London was the amount of bars and restaurants and cafes in the city. Even near their hotel, he could find many places he'd like to visit. But he didn't return to the hotel. Instead he decided to visit a bar in Soho. When Enjolras opened the door, a wave of loud music hit him. He sighed, but what could he do? He didn't have any other options, there was music playing in every bar on the street and this one looked particularly nice. The blond crossed the room and sat on the sofa in the corner. He took his iPad out of his bag and unlocked it. Finally, oh finally, he could work. He was tired of his friends constantly telling him that he was overworking himself and that he should take a break, but now he could finish his essay alone. It wasn't due next month but it wouldn't hurt him to finish it before the deadline, right? When the waitress came to him, he order a glass of cider. On the contrary to what his friends thought, he liked good alcohol, music and he even liked to have fun! But he knew his priorities. He was history and politics major and he wasn't going to fail.

He smiled at the waitress, girl who could be a little bit older than him with pierced nose and ginger hair, as she put the glass on his table. He hated to admit it, but he was starting to like the Londonian climate and people there.

Totally engrossed in his work, he didn't even pay attention to the passing time. Suddenly his phone beeped. With growing smile he read the message.

**From Combeferre:** _Enjolras, we went to the restaurant. We'll be back around 1 am. Is everything okay?_

The blond wanted to dance and sing! (Even if the music in the bar was still a mystery to him. Was it a mix of rock and shanties? Rock and folk? Courfeyrac would probably know). He returned to his work with a huge grin on his face. But suddenly something caught his eye. Enjolras looked up only to meet someone's gaze. The man chatting with the waitress was older than him, probably 8-10 years his senior. He had brown hair, curly on the top of his head. His skin was much lighter than Enjolras'. The blond could easily see that the man was tired - he looked like he was running or jumping with his hair dishevelled and black circles under his eyes. Oh yes, his eyes were intriguing and even in the dark bar, young student could see how grey they were. Enjolras quickly looked at his tablet blushing. Was it normal to stare at someone who was also staring at you? Not in Paris! (Or maybe just not among Enjolras' friends...)

The blond continued typing at the keyboard when he heard the footsteps near him. He lifted his head and saw the same pair of bright grey eyes.

"Ummm.. do you come here often?" The man asked, his voice hoarse and strangely familiar to Enjolras, who now could see every detail of his eyes. There were small green dots around the pupils and his lashes were long and black.

"To be honest, I live in Paris, I’m French."

The man grinned and sat down in front of Enjolras.

"French, you say.. My father is French too."

Enjolras smiled. The man seemed to be nice, so why shouldn't he talk to him?

"My name is Antoine but feel free to call me Enjolras - it’s my last name. He/him pronouns, please."

"Antoine.." The dark haired man said slowly "That's a beautiful name. Tell that to your parents" He added but as soon as he noticed discomfort on Enjolras' face, he smiled and said "I am Nicolas Grantaire, but you can call me R. He/him pronouns too."

"Nice to meet you, R. You want to drink something?"

R shook his head. "Don't worry, that waitress I was talking to is my sister" he laughed "and that means I can't buy any alcohol here. Ahh, sisters are great. But tell me, what is the guy like you doing in the bar like this in the middle of the night? Alone? With only his iPad?"

"My friends are on a date at the restaurant and I am celebrating those few hours alone by finishing my essay." Enjolras hid his iPad in his bag.

"I don't want to disturb you! You don't have to stop working."

The blond smiled. "You are not disturbing. I've just finished it so now I can enjoy London."

"Hmm enjoy London. Can I enjoy it with you?" He smirked.

"Yes, you can.." Of course Enjolras knew that it was irresponsible and dangerous to go somewhere with the complete stranger especially in the city he didn't know. But why would he care? He was an adult now, he could do whatever he wanted to do. "But first, let me pay for my cider."

Nicolas smiled and put his hand on Enjolras'. "It's on me. I'll tell Am to add this to my really huge debt."

"Thank you..." The blond muttered. He was intrigued by this man who was the most kind person he met in UK during his stay by far.

R stood up and took his grey sweater from the sofa. "You may want to wear something warmer. It's rather cold outside. Well.. Probably much colder than in Paris."

"You were in Paris?"

The taller man grinned. "Yeah. Five or six times."

"Oh right, your father is French. Sorry, I forgot. You have family there?"

R wrinkled his nose a little bit and looked at Enjolras. There was something mysterious in his look, like he wasn't sure if the blond was real.

"Yeah.. Let's go. I'll show you the better side of London."

Enjolras took his bag and grinned. ‘The better side of London’, it sounded nice like an adventure.

Nicolas eyed him and sighed.

"You don't have any sweater? Or jacket?"

"No... It was warm when I left the hotel..."

R shook his head grinning. "You tourists and your stupid ideas." he laughed "Take my sweater or you'll get cold"

"But then you'll get cold instead of me!"

"Don't worry about me, Monsieur. I am.." He made a dramatic pause "British. I am not scared of bad weather. We never get cold! Plus I am nice and take this sweater, please"

"Thanks.." Enjolras put the woollen sweater on. It smelled like smoke and sweat and cologne and Enjolras tried hard not to hide himself in it. "Where are we going?"

R smiled showing his slightly crooked teeth. "It's a surprise. Trust me."

They walked out the bar saying goodbye to Nicolas' sister - Amelie. Enjolras soon found himself on the night bus, pressed between the window and R who was talking excited about London, his sister and borough. The blond smiled, it was nice to know someone who loved his city as much as he did. Even if Paris and London were in different countries, Nicolas and Enjolras found many traits that both cities shared.

"So... where are we going, Nico?"

R immediately looked surprised at the younger man. "You called me Nico? God, you are adorable, boy."

Enjolras beamed. "But really, tell me where we are going. I want to know what to tell my friends about my secret adventure."

"Secret adventure?" R chuckled "You didn't tell your friends that you are going to do bar-hopping with a complete stranger?" He asked "Just kidding. I’m not gonna take you only to the bars! There is a whole new London. A new fantastic point of view. No one to tell us "No" or where to go or say we're only dreaming" he sang.

Enjolras looked at the man surprised. "You have got really nice voice! Why didn't you tell me before?"

"Oh of course, forgive me. I forgot to do my casual introduction hello, ‘I am R and I can sing’.” Grantaire smirked "Actually.. It's my job"

"Tell me more!" Enjolras requested smiling "As a person who totally can't sing, I always admire those who are so talented..."

Grantaire shot Enjolras' strange look and hummed quietly. "I sing at... Festivals, weddings... sometimes, never funerals and it is quite sad, because to be honest I wouldn't be upset if someone hired Metallica to sing on my funeral."

"Wow.. That's impressive! Sing something for me!"

R smirked and ruffled Enjolras' hair "Maybe later"

The blond huffed quietly and burrowed himself deeper in Grantaire's sweater. It was indeed cold in London. People were wearing coats and jackets. Enjolras looked at R. How was it even possible that the man hasn't frozen yet? The blond bit his lower lip - he should have said no when Nicolas offered his sweater. Enjolras took the sweater off from his left arm and wrapped it around Grantaire who gave him questioning look.

"You.. You must be cold!"

"As I said before - you are adorable. But I have to disappoint you for this is our stop, so we won't cuddle. Get up, freak"

Enjolras looked around. "Where are we?"

"In front of my favourite bar. If you want to "enjoy London" then you just must visit this place!" Grantaire said and smiled.

The blond grinned at him and let R lead him to the door of the bar. Courfeyrac and Combeferre would never believe him!

 

_ 2 hours and many beers later _

 

"So I told them that I’m transparent of this cat!" Enjolras burst out laughing but when he noticed confused look on R's face, he added "You know, because I’m trans and like a father to this kitten. So I’m transparent."

Grantaire smiled and drank his sixth beer slowly (or was it his seventh?). He rested his arm on Enjolras' shoulder and caught the unruly strand of his hair in his fingers with a concerned look on his face, as if he wanted to ask the God, Mother Nature and literally everyone about the origin of its golden colour. Finally after few seconds, he spoke:

"You fucking liar."

Enjolras looked at him offended.

"What?!"

"It's not your natu.. narut... natural hair colour"

The student pulled Grantaire closer.

"It's a secret... Don't tell anyone please..." He whispered. God dammit he was so drunk. Drunk and currently sitting in some shitty bar in London with a stranger who was really hot. There was no way his friends would believe him.

 

_ 1 hour later _

 

"When she broke up with me, I was totally useless. I stopped working, hid myself in my flat with a bottle of wine. Then one day my grandma called me and told me that I need to get my shit together." Grantaire chuckled "Yes! She literally told me 'Nicolas, it's over. Get your shit together, grandson'. And you know what? It worked. I just asked some people if they don't need anybody who can sing. And I kinda.. Fell in love with music. Okay now your turn! You know already everything about me!" The dark haired man poked Enjolras' in his ribs.

"but 'm boring.. You're interesting, 'm not. I can't sing and I’m just studying... I’m studying... What am I studying?... History! Yes... I like history. History is nice. 'M here with my friends, but I don't kno where they are. I don't remember... And it's your fault!" The blond mumbled and put his head on Grantaire's shoulder "Let's go somewhere.. I wanna see the... Buildings!"

"Buildings? Okay, blondie." R got up and helped Enjolras not to trip over his own feet. He eyed him carefully and wrapped the sweater around and the blond's body "I don't want you to be sick, Monsieur tourist"

Enjolras smiled in a lieu of answer and hugged R. The older man was so warm and comfy and the student didn't want to let him go, he smelled like an alcohol and cigarettes but also like something sweet. Enjolras closed his eyes. Just don't doze off, the blond thought. He shouldn't have drank that much. Suddenly he felt strong arms around his shoulders and when he looked up, he saw Grantaire's smiling face.

"Come on, you'll feel better when you get some fresh air" he said and grabbed Enjolras' hand. "This way!"

The blond let himself be led out of the bar to the bus. He watched the buildings and people passing them with his head on R's shoulder. He was closing his eyes slowly when he heard the buzzing sound coming from his pocket. He reached for his phone and crinkled his eyes. Goddammit he couldn't see the screen. Why didn't he take his glasses? Why didn't he stop drinking two hours ago?

"You need help?" Grantaire asked

Enjolras blushed and shook his head "I forgot my glasses. Plus 'm drunk. It's my friend, Comb..Combfer.. My friend wants to know if I am okay." he typed the reply slowly and turned the phone to Grantaire. “Did I make any mistakes?''

R smiled and read the talk ''I have no idea, tourist. I can't speak French.''

''Oh… I told him that I am okay but I met someone nice and I am with him’’

"Someone nice, huh? Do I know this person?"

"Maybe..." Enjolras giggled.

‘’So now your friend can stop worrying about you while you spend time with the nice person. _'Trademark symbol'_."

"Trademark symbol?"

"Yeah, you kids tend to say that a lot when you finish a sentence."

The blond laughed "Kids? How old are you?"

"28, kiddo"

"I am 19, grandpa"

Grantaire smirked and wrapped his arm around Enjolras' shoulders. "I can't believe I am hanging out with a child."

"But I am not a child! Plus we don't say 'trademark symbol'! We write it!" He laughed loudly.

"Whatever, blondie." he got up and took Enjolras' bag "I'll carry it. I don't trust you with holding heavy items when you can't stand on your own feet"

The student grabbed Grantaire's hand and clutched to him closely. "Are we gonna see any buildings?"

R snorted. "We are literally standing in front of the Buckingham Palace, dork."

Enjolras turned around and wrinkled his forehead. Buckingham Palace? That huge building for the Queen? The blond was angrier and angrier with each passing second. Why would they give this whole palace to only one family? Why didn't they fight for freedom like France had done before? - he thought. Enjolras clenched his fists. "I hate it! I hate it so fucking much!! Are you crazy, you British people?"

"What?" Grantaire looked at his surprised

"This palace and everything!! Why do you love the Queen so much?! Why didn't you overthrow her? You must fight for your rights." he shouted delicately hitting R's chest with his small hands "You must stand up and fight! Just like French people in 1789!"

"What the fuck is wrong with you, Antoine?" R laughed and embraced Enjolras "Stop being so angry, man"

"But you are not free. You must be free. I want you to be free, Nicolas"

"I am 100% sure I am free human being. Don't worry about me."

Enjolras looked up and closed the distance between them. He rested his head on Grantaire's breastbone. Yesterday he had been normal student from France who had wanted to go home. And tonight he was hugging some stranger who was nine years older than him and who out of blue suggested sightseeing London with him. How was is even possible to change one's life that much? Enjolras could feel that he was still drunk, that his brain couldn't function the way it should.

"Monarchy is bad." he mumbled "Really bad. You should destroy it. And destroy fish and chips too. It's bleh."

"Is there any way to make you shut up?" Grantaire asked as he ran his fingers through Enjolras' hair.

"Mmm... I think... You gotta kiss me."

"Kiss you?!" R laughed "Okay, that's an option, tourist."

"But really.. Kiss me if you want." Enjolras looked at his face "Because you want, right?"

But Grantaire didn't reply. Instead he pressed his lips to Enjolras' and kissed him roughly. He wrapped his arms around the blond's waist. It took Enjolras few seconds to realise what was actually happening. He closed his eyes and let himself relax into the touch. He stood on his tiptoes and rested his hands on Grantaire's shoulders. Even though it wasn't his first kiss, he felt like a 12-year-old. But this time it wasn't quick peck on the lips shared with the best friend behind his father's car. It was passionate, full of fighting for dominance.

R was the first one to break the kiss. He took a deep breath and asked: "Wanna go to mine?'' he paused ''We can eat something – I can hear your stomach growling.''

Enjolras was indeed hungry, he'd eaten toast for breakfast, but that was almost 24 hours ago! His own stomach betrayed him so he nodded and smiled bashfully. He'd do anything for the cup of coffee and even the smallest tomato.

Grantaire smiled back and took Enjolras' hand in his and caressed his palm with his thumb. ''Unless.. you don't want. There are better places to see in London than my shitty flat.''

The blond grinned showing his braces. ''I'd love to take a sightseeing tour around your flat.''

''Let's go then. We'll take a cab, because you look like you are going to faint soon.''

Enjolras pouted. ''I am just a little bit drunk, that's all.''

R looked at him and shook his head with a smile. ''Come on, tourist.'' he said and called the taxi.

The blond didn't even pay attention to the things around him. While Grantaire was telling the driver his home address, he sat with his face pressed to the window. He didn't know how long they were travelling, but before he realised, he was playing with Grantaire's fingers. They were much longer than his with few tattoos and small nails. He looked up and studied dark haired man's face, he had small mole under his eye and brown curls were falling on his face and all Enjolras wanted to do was to run his fingers through them.

''Hmmm..?'' Grantaire grinned and squeezed student's hand ''You are staring at me. It's a little bit creepy''

''Your face is nice'' Enjolras mumbled.

R laughed and wrapped his arm around the blond's middle. ''Your face is nice too. And we are almost here. I hope you are not allergic to animals.''

''No, I am not'' Enjolras shook his head ''Dog? Or cat?''

''Something in between...'' Grantaire smirked and when the car stopped he handed money to the driver. ''Let's go, blondie. You gotta meet my animal.''

Grantaire's flat was much bigger than Enjolras had imagined. There were four rooms, each of them modernly equipped with a huge TV in the living room and guitars hanging on the walls, Posters littered the walls, mostly of world-famous bands, with the exception of few. With an amazement Enjolras traced the frame of one of them with his finger. He knew that R was a musician, but he must have been quite famous in London as the poster was from a gig. R is too modest, he thought and smiled. Suddenly he felt something warm around his leg, he squealed in surprise and immediately looked down. On the floor, in front of him was sitting a fox, a red fox like the ones he'd seen in his textbooks.

''He likes you! I am jealous.'' said Grantaire from where he was resting against the door frame.

''Of me or of your fox?'' the blond looked at him and he could easily see the grin forming on R's face.

''Both.'' Grantaire crossed the room and caressed Enjolras' cheek ''I am making pancakes. Want some?''

''Sure...'' the blond replied and sat on the sofa. Not knowing what he should do, he started petting the animal, who sat on his lap. ''What is it called?''

''Fox. I wanted to call him Hemingway, but my sister insisted on choosing something easier. So it's just the Fox.'' R grinned and put the plate full of pancakes, two glasses and a bottle of wine on the table ''Bon appetit, blondie.''

''I've got name. You can call me Enjolras, please.''

''You know how hard it is to pronounce it,  _ Enjolras? _ ''

A shiver ran down Enjolras' spine. It wasn't the right pronunciation, but yet he loved it. He wanted to kiss Grantaire, to hug him, just to touch him. Instead he took the glass and drank the wine quickly. He wondered how it would feel to entwine their fingers together or to kiss Grantaire's neck. Enjolras wrinkled his nose, he needed to get his shit together.

''You like Hemingway?'' the blond asked suddenly.

''Yeah.. I mean.. reading The Old Man and the Sea was hard. Especially when I was sober.'' he smiled ''Have you ever read it?''

''No, I haven't.'' Enjolras shook his head ''But I think I'll, when I get home.''

Grantaire grabbed something from the huge pile of books beside the sofa and gave it to the student. ''You can take it. Just read it and tell me what you think.''

Enjolras studied the book in his hands. The cover was damaged and they were visible traces of the pen on it ''I can't believe that you just keep it near your sofa.''

''It's a hardcover, so it's a perfect coaster'' Grantaire smiled showing his dimples and his teeth and it was just too much for him to bear. He grabbed R's shirt and kissed him. He sighted quietly when the man kissed him back and pulled him closer. Grantaire's hands were on his waist as he kissed the other man's neck and all Enjolras could think about were R's lips on his skin.

 

***

 

The warm light illuminated the room. Enjolras turned to his side and wrinkled his forehead. Why didn't he draw the curtains? Still with his eyes closed, he tried to grab his phone. But.. there was no phone near his bed. He opened his eyes and realised that it wasn't his bed. He was in a bedroom that certainly wasn't his nor any of his friends'. Then he felt someone near him. He looked down only to see arms wrapped around his middle that for sure didn't belong to Combeferre nor Courfeyrac.

''You woke up, blondie?'' suddenly the person with whom he was sharing the bed asked.

_ Oh fuck.  _


	2. Take a look in the mirror and cry

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title from Queen's Somebody to Love.  
> I LOVE MY [BETA](http://www.imsorryfortheinconvenience.tumblr.com/)

At the sound of Grantaire's voice, Enjolras jumped, startled. He turned around and his eyes opened wider.

''Ummm… yes, I did...'' he muttered and covered his face with the duvet.

Grantaire studied his face. One could say that his eyes were just blue, like the sky. But Grantaire was an artist – for him, they were as blue as the ocean and just like the ocean, they could be either calm or stormy. R felt like he was drowning in them. He shook his head, he needed to get the facts straight. And the facts were that Enjolras was currently sitting on his bed and he looked like he had no idea what was happening around him. The dark haired man reached for his hand and squeezed it lightly.

''Did we…'' A blush appeared on Enjolras' face. He took a deep breath and looked at Grantaire ''Did we..? You know what…''

R wrinkled his forehead and sat down. Was the blond so drunk yesterday? How was it even possible that he didn't remember the last night?

''Did we have sex?'' R smiled ''No, we didn't. You fell asleep on the sofa with Fox licking your face, so I took you to the bed. See? I'm nice.''

''Then why are we in the same bed…?'' Enjolras looked as if he was going to die of embarrassment. He was biting his lower lip nervously.

Grantaire snickered. ''Because whilst I'm nice, I also want to sleep in a comfortable bed, Monsieur. Now, please stop stealing my duvet.''

The blond's expression softened as he put his head on the pillow and loosened his grip on the duvet.  Enjolras turned onto his side and looked at Grantaire who suddenly felt uncomfortably exposed, those blue eyes were following his every movement. R swallowed hard.

What was happening to him? Normally he wouldn't let a stranger sleep in his bed. For sure he would never let someone just come to his precious flat and get drunk. What was wrong with him? Eleven years of being a musician, of living in the worst places in the whole Europe, of meeting people his mother would never want to meet and suddenly he couldn't find the right words because of a nineteen-year-old who acted like he had spent last decade in a cave and never really had friends. R ruffled his hair and closed his eyes. A nineteen-year-old who was one of the best kissers he had ever met.

He promised himself not to have those stupid crushes. A stupid crush which had once almost killed him, Grantaire opened his eyes and turned his head to Enjolras who was still staring at him with those damn blue eyes.

''Do you like what you see..?'' R asked smiling. He was going to play it cool. He really was.

The blond smiled back shyly and propped himself on his hands. Grantaire watched him breathe quietly, his red lips slightly parted.

''But.. if we didn't.. you-know-what,'' Enjolras blushed again ''then where are my pants?''

R laughed at his embarrassed face.

''You tried to take them off, but you were failing so miserably that I decided to help you.''

''And you thought that undressing me would be a good idea?'' Enjolras sat up and wrinkled his forehead. His eyes were dark, stormy and angry and Grantaire felt like he could spend the rest of his life just writing songs about them but instead of wasting his days on the impossible (R was sure that even the best poets wouldn't be able to describe them), he rolled his eyes.

''You literally got stuck in your own jeans. I only helped you not to break your pretty legs.'' Grantaire grinned ''Now, Monsieur, would you like to eat and drink something? I was told that my coffee is the best in the United Kingdom.''

Enjolras looked at his face and smiled. ''Yes, please. I'd love to taste the best coffee in the United Kingdom.'' he said and tucked his hair behind his ear.

As soon as he got an answer, Grantaire got up from the bed and stretched his arms, his white t-shirt accidentally riding up exposing his stomach and chest. R felt Enjolras' eyes following the movement of the shirt and the dark haired man blushed. In front of him was sitting the young god and there was he – tall, underweight with a lot of tattoos and scars.

''Can you… can you stop staring at me? It feels like you are judging me.'' he sighed.

''I am not judging you.'' Enjolras smiled showing his teeth ''I'm checking you out. Come on, let's make a breakfast. I'm starving.''

Grantaire looked at him confused. What was happening? R wasn't religious, rather he identified as an atheist, but on this sunny day, he was certain that someone up above was messing with him. And he was just sure that it was his grandma.

''Thank you, nan…'' he whispered as Enjolras sat on the bed and put his legs on the floor.

''Hmmmm?''

''Nothing!''

''Oh… okay. Can I take a shower?'' the blond asked smiling.

''Yeah, sure. That door. You can find some fresh towels under the mirror.'' Grantaire took a deep breath. He started to like this domesticity.

When the blond disappeared in the bathroom, R headed to the kitchen which was located near the living room.

The whole situation was just ridiculous. He met a guy in the pub, he made out with him and now he was preparing breakfast for the both of them. Grantaire sighed as one of the French toasts, fell onto the floor instead of the plate and was soon captured by Fox.

He dipped the next slice of the bread in egg mixture.

But… it wasn't his fault if during these nine hours with Enjolras, he had developed some strange crush on the man! Anyone would! It was hard not to fall in love with those blue eyes, blond curls, freckles and tanned skin. R managed to successfully put the toast on the plate. And with that damn French accent. Grantaire put the coffee on the table. But Enjolras was going back to France soon and R could forget about him and go back to his sad life.

Suddenly he heard a melody coming from the living room. He could recognise it everywhere. The ringing of the phone was followed by Enjolras running out of bathroom, water dripping from his hair onto the wooden floor.

''Ahh! That's my friend!'' he muttered in R’s direction as he accepted the call.

Grantaire stared at him in disbelief. He didn't understand what had just happened. He heard Enjolras talk to someone in French, too fast for him to understand. When the blond finished talking, he put his phone back on the table and walked slowly to the kitchen.

''I totally forgot about my friends…''  he said bashfully.

Grantaire hummed in the lieu of answer. What was he supposed to do?

''Ummm… so you like that song?''

''What song?'' Enjolras wrinkled his forehead.

''Your ringtone.''

''Oh! I don't even know it!'' he smiled ''My friend – Courfeyrac – set it as a ringtone for him, because it's his favourite song. And favourite singer. He even was at his concert yesterday!''

R took a sip of his coffee. His life was a mess. ''I like it too.'' he said simply ''But I'd change the rhythm…'' Congratulations, Nicolas, you've reached level 100 in being a socially awkward idiot. He deserved a golden star with 'at least you tried' written on it.

Grantaire watched Enjolras drink the coffee, his golden hair was wet and few strands were falling on his face. His eyes were partially closed, long lashes resting on his cheeks.

''This coffee is delicious! Tell me your secret!''

The dark haired man smiled. ''Never.''

''So I'm going to take you with me to Paris''

Oh no, Grantaire didn't like this idea. It meant that he'd have to see Enjolras' beautiful face every day.

''What about my job, blondie? I can't spend the rest of my life making coffee for you'' He totally could.

''Hmmm… you can sing and make coffee at the same time''

R laughed. What was the point of this conversation?

Grantaire hated to admit it, but it was painfully easy to talk to Enjolras. He told him about his family and his rather hard relationship with his father and learnt about blond's sister and adoptive father. Somewhere around the third coffee he felt like he and Enjolras knew each other for at least 5 years. They were sitting on Grantaire's sofa with Fox pressed between them, both of them smiling, laughing and appreciating their friendship and the domesticity.

Too soon it was interrupted by Grantaire's phone, he groaned and clicked the 'accept' button.

''What?'' he said angrily.

''Bro, mate, darling, we need your help'' R easily recognised his friend's voice.

''What's wrong?''

''There is a problem with the song. Can you come to the studio?''

Grantaire groaned once again, this time louder.

''I'll be there in 30 minutes''

He threw the phone on the sofa and sighed. Not now…

''I must go to work. I'd love to spend more time with you, but they can't survive without me.'' R looked at Enjolras ''Can we meet at the evening?''

''I'm going back to Paris today…'' he said and got up.

Grantaire only muttered quite 'okay'. He watched the blond take his bag from the floor. He didn't mean it like this. He didn't want Enjolras to leave.

''Thank you for everything''

''No, no, no. I should be the one to say that. Thanks for the great evening. And morning.'' R smiled sadly. He looked at Enjolras and suddenly got an amazing idea.

He took the sweater which earlier he had given to the man and wrapped it around Enjolras' body.

''You'll get a cold.''

''No, I won't. Now the sweater protects me.'' the blond smiled and took Grantaire's hand. In the morning light, R could see freckles on his nose and cheeks. He could feel his breath on his neck. The dark haired man pressed a kiss to the corner of Enjolras' mouth, who looked at him surprised.

''Thank you…'' he added and still looking at Grantaire, left the flat.

And instead of getting ready, R just stood there, in the hall, and was staring at the door. But what could he do? C'est la vie, that's life and shit happens. He should have been prepared, should have been stronger. He was just a person he met in the bar and he'd never see him again. He didn't even ask for his phone number.

Thirty minutes later Grantaire left his flat, even sadder than half an hour ago. He sighed - it was raining but maybe that was better. Somehow his sadness and walking in the rain fitted together. On the way to the studio, he hoped that the car would hit him. He opened the door and slumped against the sofa in the corner, not caring about his friends.

''Hey, Nico, Steve said that this song is too slow. We need to send it to him once again'' said Josh – the tall and ginger drummer in Grantaire's backing band. When he didn't get any answer, he looked helplessly at the rest of the band.

''R, we should also talk about the cover design..'' Aaron spoke quietly.

Grantaire hummed. He didn't want to talk about the song nor about the cover. Right now, he didn't care about his career.

''R, your CD. It's important.''

''R, they'll kick us out if we don't record this thing''

''R, we are your band. It's Nicolas Grantaire and the Band, not the Band and Nicolas Grantaire. Wake up''

Finally Bob got up. He looked at Grantaire, just as like he did twenty years ago when the two of them ran away from their homes.

''What's wrong?''

Their eyes met and R finally gave up. He couldn't pretend that everything was okay, he wasn't even trying to pretend.

''I'm a stupid idiot.''

''And?''

''And I met someone in the bar''

''And…?''

''And I have a stupid crush on him even though I didn't even get his phone number''

''Looks like we are going to get a new song…'' Josh whispered.

Bob sighed. After twenty years of friendship he knew everything about Grantaire. When the man asked him to be a member of his band, he had immediately agreed. R was like his brother. He sat on the sofa near him and hugged him and was soon followed by Josh and Aaron. Their friend needed a hug.

''You know what… It's not even like I fell in love. It's just… I miss loving someone''

''Aww… you know what you should do? Play with us. It can always cheer you up! Come one!'' said Josh. R smiled and with his friends' help, he got up. As he was taking his guitar, he felt someone's hand on his shoulder. He turned around and saw Bob's face.

''Do you know his name?''

Grantaire's smile turned into pout. ''I do.''

''Then maybe find him on Facebook? Or Twitter?'' Bob suggested.

The dark haired man shook his head. ''I don't think he wants me to talk to him. I was just a person he met in London. I'm not interesting or something.''

''Aha, yeah and I'm Pamela Anderson''

''And I accept you no matter what!'' Grantaire laughed.

Bob smiled at him and ruffled R's dark hair. ''Just try to find him. Do it for me. Or if you don't want to do it for me, then do it for Fox.''

And soon Grantaire forgot about the sadness. Of course, he still kept the image of Enjolras' smile in his head. When he played songs, he thought that it'd be nice to know that someone was waiting for him in his flat, that someone would tell him that they love him. But he wasn't that selfish. When he was rewriting the chords of his new song, he imagined how amazing it'd be to tell someone that he loves them.

When R finished working with his band, it was already after 9 pm. When he reached his flat, he was tired and hungry. But he had to admit that thanks to music, he forgot about his broken heart. After all he had survived so many things, loneliness wouldn't kill him.  

He turned the key in the lock, only to discover that the door was already open. He walked in and sighed when he saw his sister cooking something in the kitchen, as soon as she noticed he was home she stepped away from the counter and smiled widely.  

''I made a pasta! It's really good!''

Grantaire sat on the kitchen counter and ruffled her hair. ''Why aren't you in your flat? With your girlfriend?''

Amelie groaned and hit her brother with the spatula. ''She is not my girlfriend. We broke up and I moved out. Man, you should hear the music she likes. What a bullshit. And you know what she said? That she doesn't like musicals! So I said no to this!'' she sang.

''You’re ridiculous! And give me that pasta.'' Grantaire said but he got hit once again. He laughed. ''But you are the most ridiculous person I've met, Am!''

''I am not! You are not getting any pasta, sir!'' she took a sip of wine from the old and worn-out cup ''Oh! Before I'll totally forget about it! There were some letters in your mailbox, so I took them. Bills, bills and once again bills,'' she said as she flipped through them ''this one is from Xtra Mile Recordings, they want to make a t-shirt with your face or something... Oh... this thing is strange. It's just a phone number. A French phone num-''

Before she could finish talking, Grantaire took the paper from her hands. He had it. On a small card snatched from the notebook. He held it as if it was the most treasured item in his life.

''You know this number…? Oh my… It's this blond guy's number? The one you met in the bar?''

R nodded.

''Are you going to write to him?''

''I… I don't know what…''

''I know that you usually don't message your one-night stands, but if you like him, then do it.''

Grantaire looked at her angrily and wrinkled his forehead. ''He is not an one-night stand.'' he said and pulled his phone from his pocket. He stared at it and finally after 10 long seconds, he unlocked it and opened up a new message.

''Am, but what should I tell him? 'Hello, thanks for leaving your phone number. I'm a pathetic musician your friend likes so much'?''

''Maybe just 'hi'?''

R typed the number slowly and looked at his sister. ''I'll write 'hi' and you'll kill me, okay?''

The woman rolled her eyes. ''Just do it.''

And before he sent the message, Grantaire took a deep breath. But… as the kids say 'you live only once', right?

> **To Enjolras: ****Hi**


	3. Use my head alongside my heart

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title of the chapter from Mumford & Sons' [I Will Wait](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rGKfrgqWcv0)  
> This chapter is dedicated to [enjholras](http://enjholras.tumblr.com) because he is the best and to [lotspot](http://archiveofourown.org/users/lotspot/) because we met thanks to this shitty fic. 
> 
> And I love my [beta](http://imsorryfortheinconvenience.tumblr.com). Thank you, Nikki.

 

As soon as the plane took off from the Stansted Airport, Enjolras put his head on Combeferre's shoulder. Everything was too loud, too bright – the safety instruction, the yellow shelves and the stewardess who was constantly asking them if they wanted to buy LED tweezers (only €12, perfect for both at home and on the go. Battery included!).

When he had returned to their hotel earlier that day, both Courfeyrac and Combeferre were worried and angry. And Enjolras didn't want to tell them about Grantaire. But it was too late, he had already mentioned him to them when he was drunk. But he wasn't going to tell them his name. His thoughts drifted back to the moment he left R's flat..

 

******

 

Enjolras watched the taller man take the grey sweater from the hanger. Then R wrapped it firmly around the blond's body and smiled.

''You'll get a cold.''

Enjolras smiled back. It was nice to know that there was someone who cared about him. And even though he didn't want to admit it, he liked this sweater.

''No, I won't. Now the sweater protects me.'' Enjolras said, a little bit too dryly.

He reached for Grantaire's hand. He yearned to touch it and when he took it, he felt like his heart skipped a beat. Because it surely did. They were so close and Enjolras could see Grantaire's chapped lips. He looked at the loose strand of his hair – in the daylight it was brown, almost ginger. Suddenly R moved closer and pressed his lips to the corner of Enjolras' mouth. And the blond couldn't breathe. Grantaire's smell was intoxicating and the student just wanted to wrap his arms closely around Nicolas and forget about the plane and school and the fact that he would never see him again. He took a step back. He needed to leave.

''Thank you…'' Enjolras muttered and walked out shutting the door behind him. He ran down the stairs and didn't stop until Grantaire's building was no more visible. He rested against the cold brick wall and took a deep breath. He had no idea where he was or how he could get back to his hotel. More importantly he left Grantaire's flat without leaving his phone number nor e-mail address. Enjolras started pacing back and forth, people stumbling into him. Suddenly the man got an idea. He walked back quietly to R's buliding. He was breathing heavily. What if Grantaire opens the door right now? What if he sees me and asks me why I'm standing in front of his house? - Enjolras thought. Luckily the man was nowhere to be seen and the blond managed to hop on the ledge. He opened his bag and searched for the sheet of paper. He took a pen and carefully scribbled down his phone number. He sighed as he slipped the scrap into the mailbox with Nicolas's surname written on it. Few minutes later Enjolras was walking fast to the station. He had no idea where he was, but somehow he managed to find the main road. When he noticed the logo of the tube, he smiled slightly. Now he only needed to know where his hotel was...

 

******

 

''Enjolrasssss. Enjyyyy'' Courfeyrac called his best friend but when he noticed the absent look on the blond's face, he moved closer to him and raised his voice ''ENJOLRAS!''

Finally the student turned around with a shriek. ''Are you crazy?!''

''I only wanted to tell you to fasten your belt, bro.'' he smiled ''What are you thinking about? Or more like.. who are you thinking about?'' Courfeyrac's smile only grew bigger and he raised his eyebrows. ''About your new friend, am I right?''

''It's none of your business, Courf.''

''Of course it's my business, Enjy. You're my best friend and your love life is important to me!''

''My 'love life' doesn't exist, Luis.''

''Aha sure. It does, Antoine. Ferre, tell him to stop lying and admit that he's got crush on some hot British guy.''

''I don't have a crush on him!''

Combeferre laughed. ''Enjolras, you've basically just admitted that there is someone.''

The blond blushed when he realised what he had said. He turned around and pressed his face to the small window. Thirty minutes more and he was going to be in his Paris. Enjolras' smiled slightly when he saw all of the lights. Maybe his house was there?

The student winced and gripped the armrest when the wheels of the plane hit the ground. Twenty minutes later he was marching through the airport with Combeferre and Courfeyrac slowly walking behind him. Since it was already dark in Paris, Enjolras had problems with his eyesight. He wrinkled his forehead as he tried to read when the next bus was, he couldn't let Courfeyrac see him in glasses.

''Enjy, what are you doing?'' suddenly Combeferre asked.

Enjolras turned around quickly. ''Looking for my bus.''

''You know we can drive you home? Courfeyrac went to get our car and I'm pretty sure it won't be a problem.''

''But I live too far. It's the different part of the city.''

''Nah, as I said before – it's not a problem. Plus your dad would kill me if we left you here.''

The blond smiled. Combeferre was wrong. His papa wouldn't be even angry at them. He treated his son's friends like his own kids. But his sister? Or his papa's boyfriend? They would kill them.

Courfeyrac's car was a small and old Smart Forfour. Inside there were many (too many) teddy bears, at least three air fresheners, a bobblehead Yorkshire Terrier and lots of plastic cups from McDonald’s and Starbucks (which were rather strange sight since Courfeyrac was working at a restaurant). Enjolras somehow managed to sit down and fasten his belt. Courf's car smelled like the meadow next to the fast food restaurant.

''Yours or ours? Because if ya want, then you can stay with us and I'll drive you home tomorrow.'' the young chef asked.

Enjolras shook his head. ''No, no. You deserve to spend time together without me. Just drop me at the train station and I'll call Cosette.''

Courfeyrac snorted in lieu of answer. It was obvious that Enjolras wasn't going to call his sister, letting his friends help him was already too much. He didn't want to be a burden. The blond closed his eyes. He felt wrong. He should have rented a flat near his university and find a job instead of living with his father and taking money from him. When Courfeyrac stopped his car, Enjolras quickly hopped off and thanked his friends. He opened the gate and entered the garden. The student passed the flower pots and bench on which he and Cosette used to play when they were younger.

Enjolras took a deep breath as he knocked on the door. He waited, slowly tapping the stone steps with his foot. Finally the door flew open and the girl with dark skin and long pink hair grinned at him.

''Pumpkin!!'' she threw her arms around her brother ''Oh my… You must tell me everything about London!!! Did you eat fish and chips? Have you got any souvenirs for me? Did yo-…''

''Cosette, let him in. He's tired.'' Javert interrupted and opened the door wider with a smile.

''Hi, Faris.'' Enjolras said quietly as he walked in and hung his red coat. He sat on a wooden chair and started taking off his shoes completely lost in his thoughts.

''Ooooh! You bought a new sweater?'' suddenly Cosette said as she grabbed Enjolras' sleeve.

And the blond immediately realised that he was still wearing Grantaire's sweater. Grantaire's too big, grey sweater which was certainly not his and Cosette was either too kind to ask him about the real origin of it or she was just too sleep deprived to notice that there was no way Enjolras would buy something like it.

''Umm, yeah. It was cold.'' he muttered and passed the hall in order to sneak out to his room. Unfortunately he stumbled into his own father. Fuck.

''Antoine!'' Jean Valjean hugged him and ruffled his hair. ''Why didn't you call me? I would have waited for you at the airport!''

''That's okay. Courf and Ferre drove me home.''

''You must be hungry! Come on, we had your favourite soup for dinner and there is some left for you.''

''No, papa. I'm not hungry.''

''So I'll make tea for you! With honey and lemon!''

''Papa… please. I'm just sleepy… Let me go to my room.'' Enjolras ran his hand through his hair.

''Okay, Boo. We'll talk tomorrow'' Jean muttered clearly worried. As soon as the blond started to walk to his room, his father called him. ''Turn off flight mode, please! We tried to call you but your phone is not working.''

His phone. Right, he forgot to turn off the flight mode. When he took his phone out of his bag, he thought about Grantaire. What if the man had texted him? What if he tried to call him? And what if he didn't even take his phone number and threw it away?

He waited for his device to find the network and download all the messages. There were so many from his father and sister as well as a few missed calls from them. And then he noticed that one certain message from the unknown number. A simple 'hi'. He stood on the stairs with his phone in his hand and he was staring at the message. So Grantaire got his phone number. And he didn't ignore him. If someone asked Enjolras what he was feeling right now, he wouldn't be able to reply. Happiness, excitement, hope but also fear.

''Everything's okay?''

The blond turned around immediately and looked at his father. He stood in front of him, genuine smile on his tanned, surrounded by grey hair face.

''Yeah…'' Enjolras replied smiling slightly. Then he turned on his heel and ran upstairs, not stopping until his body hit the soft mattress of his bed.

He lay there for a few minutes, just staring at the white ceiling. He took a deep breath and grabbed his phone. He had no idea what he should write. Enjolras felt like his thoughts were fighting with each other – he wanted to reply, to let Grantaire know that he liked him. But on the other hand he was scared that he was just another guy Grantaire had met in the bar. God, what was he thinking? Enjolras pinched the bridge of his nose. Of course for Grantaire he was only a stranger. They met one day ago. But something deep inside Enjolras told him that he should be stronger, that he shouldn't let his depression tell him what to do. The blond took his phone and typed 'hi'. His thumb hovered above the send button and after sighing, he pressed it.

The reply came soon. Enjolras unlocked his phone and opened the message.

 

**From: unknown number**

How are u? Are u in Paris?

 

The blond smiled slightly and quickly saved the number in his contacts.

 

**From R: How are u? Are u in Paris?**

**To R: Good. And yes, I've just come back.**

**From R: Great :)**

**From R: Thanks for leaving your phone number.**

**From R: Also take care of my sweater pls. It needs love.**

   
  
Enjolras laughed. He still didn't take off the grey sweater. He rolled onto his stomach, propped himself on his elbows and started writing the reply. He didn't notice the passing time, the fact that it was late and his eyes were slowly closing by themselves. Grantaire was so witty, so intelligent and so kind. Somewhere around 2:30, R asked Enjolras why he wasn’t not sleeping and when in the lieu of answer the blond asked the same question, Grantaire only sent him a photo of his guitar, as if it was something obvious that the man was playing at 1 o'clock. Enjolras saved the photo and zoomed in at Grantaire's hand holding the musical instrument, at his tattoos and small fingernails. He smiled and still with a grin on his face he got up from the bed and took off his jeans and sweater. He knew that he should have had a shower, but he was too tired. Wearing nothing but his boxer briefs and a t-shirt, he jumped on the bed and picked up the phone but his eyes closed and the blond dropped his head on the pillow.

 

*****

 

When Enjolras woke up, it was already bright outside. He groaned and pressed his face closer to the pillow. In his head, he was slowly processing what had happened in the last few days. When he finally opened his eyes slowly, he blocked the sunlight with his outstretched arm. Soon he realised that he had fallen asleep without replying to Grantaire's message, he took his phone quickly and smiled when he read the messages R had sent him.

**From R: Are u sleeping?**

**From R: Oh wait it's late in France**

**From R: It's late in UK too,,,,**

**From R: i think i'll go to sleep**

**From R: bye bye x**  
  
  
He typed the reply, simple 'good morning'. Then he noticed the 'x' the man had written. Did he really mean it? Enjolras' heart started beating faster as he sent his message. He put the phone of the floor and covered his eyes with his hands. He felt strangely comfortably with the man. The answer came rather fast as if the man didn't even sleep and of course Enjolras mentioned that remark to him. Grantaire only wrote that he was going to work and again the blond, completely engrossed in messaging his new friend, didn't realise that he had spent two hours just lying in his bed and texting. Finally his father's voice, calling him for breakfast, stopped the conversation. He got up and put his sweatpants on. He definitely needed a shower, but his stomach and growling in it was more important. He dragged himself to the kitchen and sat on the wooden chair.

''Did you sleep well?'' Jean asked with a smile on his face as he put the plate with crêpes in front of the blond.

Cosette snorted. ''Sleep? I went to the bathroom at 2:00 and he wasn't sleeping. There was a light in his room.''

Blush appeared on Enjolras' face. Why was she like this? He took a bite of his pancake and swallowed it slowly. He couldn't help but to think about the ones Grantaire made for him. He smiled slightly. ''I just forgot to switch off the lights, 'Sette. You don't have to be so suspicious.''

The look his sister shot him was priceless.

 

*****

 

After two weeks of talking to Grantaire, Enjolras could finally call him his close friend. They had been talking every day and the blond told him things he had never told even his best friends. They followed each other on snapchat and soon Enjolras learnt that the man didn't lie about his career. He added many photos from various festivals, parties. Sometimes Grantaire would send Enjolras photos of cute dogs he met in London and the student always smiled when he saw R's grin.

Of course he knew that it was painfully obvious to everyone that he had met someone. He didn't tell his friends that he had a crush on the man, but they soon assumed that the two of them were dating. And Enjolras didn't want to correct them.

He also loved how Grantaire could easily comfort him – when he was sad, R would call him and either sing something for him or tell him about his day. He often mentioned his friends from his band but when Enjolras said that he couldn't wait to buy Grantaire's first album, the man changed the topic quickly. And the blond understood him – the dark haired man must have heard that every day from his friends and family. He decided to not mention the band stuff to R again.

And Enjolras' friends were nagging him every day about the man. Sometimes Courfeyrac would steal his phone just to see if there were any photos of Grantaire. But the blond was careful – he changed the password, so his friend couldn't unlock the device.

But soon their relationship changed and the blond couldn't ignore the subtle flirting and the fact that they were acting like a couple. None of them actually voiced the thing between them, but it was obvious that they were more than just friends. And finally the student decided to took a step forward and set photo of Grantaire as his lock screen. The blond was proud of himself. It wasn't like Enjolras had never had a boyfriend but this time he felt like he was in love, he felt safe.

The only thing Enjolras couldn't understand was people's strange reaction when they saw his lock screen. He had expected his friends to be surprised, shocked. But when one day he turned his phone to his sister, just to show her what time it was, she laughed and whispered 'fanboy'. The same happened when he was playing on his phone near Bahorel and when once he unlocked it in the queue in Musain and the people behind him started talking about Grantaire. His Grantaire. Later when he sat down with his coffee, he only smiled. His Grantaire had fans.

But Enjolras didn’t realise how many fans the man had until one foggy evening…

 

*****

 

''I still think that the first trilogy was much better. You know… the action and everything.''

''Just admit it – you have a crush on Han Solo.'' Courfeyrac snorted from behind his laptop. He typed something and smiled at the screen.

''No way. I haven't got any crush on Han Solo! But you have a crush on this guy.''

Enjolras looked at them furtively and clutched his phone in his hands. His friends invited him over for a dinner. They had even got some films, but in the end he ended up on the sofa pressed between the wall and Combeferre's long legs. Combeferre who was currently lying on the piece of the furniture with at least twenty different DVDs spread on his stomach. The blond peeked at his best friend's boyfriend (and also his best friend). Courfeyrac was sitting on the bar stool and was deeply engrossed in the thing he was doing on his laptop. Once a while he would run to Ferre and show him something on his Twitter or Facebook with a grin on his face. And Combeferre always replied with a kiss on the man's cheek.

Enjolras watched them with a shy smile. Yes, he was happy for them. And yes, he had known that the two of them would eventually end up together since he was 11. But sometimes he missed them being friends. He missed them being friends with him. They met long before he came out to his family and the society. Enjolras was sure that he hadn't even known what transgender meant back then. And it was always the three of them. Together they were superheroes, pirates and cowboys. Enjolras burrowed himself deeper in the sofa, pout on his face growing bigger and bigger. He remembered the day he realised that there was nothing wrong with him, that he wasn't the only one. He remembered that Combeferre was the first one who knew. He called him that night and told him everything. The next day also Courfeyrac learnt the truth about him. The blond could recall how warm his friend's hug had been. And when he turned 16, the high school had started and they met new friends who soon joined their gang. But even though they group had expanded, Enjolras, Combeferre and Courfeyrac were always the best friends.

And the blond stupidly thought that it would stay like this forever. He could feel that his hands were shaking and he quickly hid them in the pockets of his hoodie. He was selfish, but he couldn't hide that since his friends moved out from their family houses and started dating, everything changed. And he had to accept it. That one day they would probably have children, that Courfeyrac would open his own restaurant and Combeferre get a job in the veterinary clinic. And now, at least, Enjolras had Grantaire in his life. Or he wished that he had. The blond closed his eyes and let himself relax.

''Enjolras, do you want a cake? We've got a cheesecake and that amazing thing Ferre's grandma made!'' When Enjolras opened his eyes, he realised that his friend was much closer than he was few seconds before. Courfeyrac was basically sitting on his lap with a plate full of orange rings.

''That's imarti. My grandma loves them and you better eat them, Enjol, because she was looking for the good flour in every shop in Paris.'' Combeferre added and took one of the rings.

''I'll. Just later? I'm still full from the dinner.'' he replied smiling shyly.

''Sure, Enjy.'' Courfeyrac petted his hair. ''Aaaaand… what about your lover boy?''

''He's not my lover boy! We're not even dating!'' Enjolras retorted.

''Yhym, sure. But you want to date him, don't you?''

''No, I don't!'' the student's own cheeks have betrayed him. He could feel how hot they were.

''Okay! But at least you could tell us his name! Or show us a photo of him! Now I think he looks like a potato or he doesn't even exist''

Enjolras stuck his tongue out at Courfeyrac and returned to his previous activity, that is messaging Grantaire. He wrote to the man about his friend's speculations, but he didn't get any answer. After ten minutes of waiting and constantly checking his phone, he finally gave up and put the device on the table.

''Want to watch Mamma Mia with us, E?'' suddenly Combeferre asked and placed the bowl with popcorn in front of them.

''Sure. I love Mamma Mia.''

''We know, Enjolras. Mamma Mia and sweet coffee are your only sins.'' Courfeyrac snorted and hugged his friend closer.

Few minutes later the film had begun and the student quickly forgot about his problems and insecurities. With Combeferre's arm around him and Courfeyrac's legs poking him in the stomach, he felt like the last five years disappeared somewhere. He wasn't even paying attention to the plot, since he had seen the film at least twenty times. He just listened to the music and he smelled the buttery popcorn.

But then his idyll was disturbed by the buzzing sound. He turned around and saw Courfeyrac unlocking his phone.

''Sorry…'' the man whispered. ''It's my Twitter.''  

Enjolras looked away. He forgot that five years ago Courfeyrac wasn't a popular blogger in the fandom of some musician. When two weeks ago he had returned to the hotel, Courfeyrac told him everything about the concert. He also posted some photos on his Twitter and asked Enjolras to look at them, but the blond never did it. He even didn't know this guy's name.

The student looked at his phone on the table. Why didn't Grantaire text him? He hadn't mentioned any important things in the work and he never disappeared for more than 30 minutes. Enjolras took a deep breath - after all the man wasn't his boyfriend and he could do whatever he wanted to do without telling Enjolras about his plans, but still the blond wished that Grantaire had messaged him.

He turned his attention to the TV and rested his head on the soon-to-be vet's shoulder as Amanda Seyfried sang together with Colin Firth.

"This festival started today! Oh man, I totally forgot about it!" Courfeyrac whined and put his phone on his chest.

"What festival?" Enjolras asked just to keep his mind busy and not to think about R.

"It's near London. And all of the best folk musicians are there. Why didn't I buy the tickets? Why? I could have flown to the UK!"

"Your crush is playing there, isn't he?" Combeferre replied with a grin on his face.

"Yeah, he is. In twenty minutes. I'm on his Twitter right now. Sometimes he live-streams his concerts.''

''Oh, maybe you want to watch it? We can plug in your laptop to the TV.'' the taller man said and took the remote control from the table. Enjolras looked at him and sighed quietly. He should go now. He should go and leave them alone with their concert and their own lives. He shifted on the sofa.

''Nah, I'm not even sure if he live-streams this one. His last tweet is about Marmite. '' Courfeyrac said smiling.

''Marmite?''

''Yeah!'' he laughed. ''He told his friend that it's a jam and this person believed him. What a poor human being.''

Enjolras turned his head to Courfeyrac quickly. The sentence he had said was so familiar. But no… There was no way Courfeyrac knew Grantaire and was making fun of him right now. Because… many people could tell that their friends about Marmite, right? And it was just a strange coincidence. But yet something, his heart maybe, told him that he should ask Courfeyrac about it. And if the man in fact knew R and both of them were just so shitty, he deserved to know it. He coughed quietly.

''Can I see this Tweet?''

Courfeyrac grinned. ''I knew it! You'll love him, Enjol!'' the man turned his phone to his friend and watched him with a smile.

>  
> 
> **Nicolas Grantaire**
> 
> **@therealr**
> 
> **I still can't believe that once I told my friend that marmite is a jam and he believed me**

 

The blond wrinkled his forehead and read the message. He couldn't believe it – the name, the text. He took a deep breath and looked at Courfeyrac. ''And… and this guy is your favourite musician…?''

''YES! Isn't he amazing? Just… '' the man clicked on the name and opened the media. And then Enjolras understood everything. He saw photos from concerts, of the band, with instruments. And in most of them – Grantaire's smiling face. He easily recognised his guitar and his flat, in which he had spent some hours. How could he be so stupid? And why didn't R tell him?

''So… Nicolas Grantaire?'' the name sounded so differently now. Like it didn't belong to the man he knew, the man who called him his friend.

''Yes! I'll go and get his CDs so we can listen to his music! I can't believe you finally decided to like him!''

Enjolras flinched at Courfeyrac's words. 'Decided to like him'... He got up quickly and took his phone from the table. ''Maybe next time? I'll go home now. I have some things I need to do.'' he smiled.

''You can stay for the night, Enjy. We'll finish watching Mamma Mia...''

The blond shook his head. ''No, no. I really need to finish my essay.'' he grabbed his bag and started putting his shoes on. He needed to call Grantaire. But he couldn't do it, Courfeyrac told him that the man had a concert right now. Enjolras zipped up his coat and smiled at his friends.

''Thanks for having me, guys.''

''Wait!'' before Enjolras could open the door, Courfeyrac stopped him. ''So now when you're… or more like... you'll be his fan, you should take those CDs,'' he put a plastic box into the blond's bag ''just listen to them and tell me what you think about his music!''

The student smiled and opened the door. He knew Grantaire's music. He'd already heard his voice.

20 minutes later Enjolras was sitting in the bus. Soon he would be back home and he would try to somehow explain the whole situation to himself. But he also needed to explain it to Grantaire. He took his phone out of his pocket. Nicolas still hadn't texted him and Enjolras couldn't wait anymore.  He chose Grantaire's contact and moved his phone closer to his ear. He wasn't surprised when he heard voice mail. He breathed heavily.

''Umm.. R? I think we need to talk.''

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tell me what you think about my fic!!  
> And say hello to me on [tumblr](http://desmoulinx.tumblr.com/)


	4. Crashing home late without warning

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title from Frank Turner's Hits & Mrs.  
> I love my [ BETA ](http://imsorryfortheinconvenience.tumblr.com/). Really guys, Nikki is the best and I love them.  
> And big thanks to [ Laura ](http://sassyfeuilly.tumblr.com/) for telling me a pun about Polish course and letting me use it in my fic. And for being a great friend :)

''Enjolras, I did want to tell you! Please, believe me! I just didn't know how?! It was hard.'' Grantaire stopped gesticulating furiously and looked at the screen of his laptop. Enjolras was staring at him, his blond hair dishevelled. In the darkness of the student's room, R could barely see his face. When Enjolras didn't reply, R took a deep breath and spoke again. ''I heard your ringtone and worked out that your friends were at my concert, and I just didn't know what to tell you. 'Hey, so your friend is my fan’? And then you somehow accepted the fact that I sing at weddings – and it's not even a lie! You can contact my manager and she'll tell you if I'm free... and… Oh, Enjolras, just say something!''

The blond nodded slightly. ''But what do you want me to say? I'm not angry at you, R. Why would I be? It's your life.'' Grantaire flinched at the ''your life''. He wanted his life to be part of Enjolras’ as well. He was so pathetic. R unintentionally started chewing the string of his black hoodie. 

''I'm just… sad.'' he pouted. ''That you knew about everything, and you didn't tell me. And now I feel like an idiot.''

R looked at him surprised. ''Enjolras! You know it's not like that! And you're not an idiot!'' he sighed. ''I am. The biggest idiot ever. Please, forgive me. This whole situation is so fucked up and to be honest I'd really love to end this conversation and talk about food. So please? Forgive me?''

''That's running away from your problems, Grantaire.''

''I…'' the dark haired man avoided Enjolras' look. ''I know…? I've been doing this since I was 10. For example once I broke my mum's favourite vase and you know what? I ran away. I just took my stuff aaaaand… You don't want to hear my amazing story, do you?''

''You're doing it again, R. You have to face your problems and uncomfortable situations.'' the blond moved the laptop closer to himself and Grantaire held his breath when the light from the computer illuminated Enjolras' face. ''I know it's hard for you, but hey… I'm here to help you.''

''You do know you sound like a psychologist?'' Grantaire laughed quietly.

The blond shook his head. ''No, that's not true.'' he glanced at R with a serious look on his face. 

''Yeah, it's. A really hot psychologist.'' Why did he even said it?

Enjolras' face was red and he smiled slightly. ''Are you flirting with me?''

''You're so stupid sometimes... Of course I'm.''

''Umm… why?'' the blond said and covered his mouth with his hand. 

He just couldn’t tell Enjolras that he was head-over heels in love with him, that he wrote songs about him and that he told his mother that the blond was his boyfrien (and that the woman wanted to meet him. And that she almost started calling him her son. But what could he do?  She'd asked him about his mysterious friend and he just had to tell her). But… he could try to make Enjolras fall in love with him too. And that'd be much easier.

''I don't know… Maybe because I like you?''

Enjolras laughed. ''I see that you really don't want to talk about your problems. Okay… You said you wanted to talk about food?''

''Don't change the subject.'' 

The blond looked at him surprised. ''I think we've already finished talking about the fact that you like me. I like you too, R. And I think there are more important things to talk about.''

''For example?'' Grantaire's pout grew bigger. Nothing was more important than the fact that he liked Enjolras.

''I need your help.'' the blond's smirk was mischievous. 

''Okay, okay, I'm kinda scared now.''

Enjolras laughed and propped himself on his elbows. ''You should be. Now that I know that you're a famous musician, I can tell all your fans your dirty secrets.''

''My dirty secrets? You don't know them!'' 

''You sure?'' the blond raised his eyebrows. ''I'm just kidding – I'm not gonna tell them that you've never seen Star Wars because you were afraid of Darth Vader. Your secret is safe with me.'' 

''You asshole'' Grantaire laughed and poked the screen with his finger. ''So what do you need my help with? Did you kill someone? Need to dump a body?'' 

Enjolras laughed. ''No! Well… not yet!''

''So what do you want?''

The blond took a deep breath. ''So you know that my friend is your fan? A big fan? He owns all of your CDs and he even started your fan club!''

''Holy shit.'' Grantaire muttered with a smile. 

''And can you follow him on Twitter? He'd be so shocked! Please?''

Could he follow Enjolras' friend? Of course he could. If it would make Enjolras happy. If it would make him see that he cared. 

''Send me a link and I'll follow him. And I'll even like his posts.'' 

The blond grinned at him in response and ran his fingers through his hair. And Grantaire stopped breathing for a second or two. How could a person be so beautiful? With his brown skin, freckles and blue eyes Enjolras looked like a god and Grantaire knew that if the student told him to jump out of the bridge, he'd do it immediately. And he knew that it was dangerous, that he had promised to himself that he wouldn't do that shit anymore. But yet he was here, madly in love with a Parisian boy who was so far away from him. 

But then the musician got an idea. An amazing idea. He could either fuck up everything or... he could succeed? 

''Umm… R?'' Enjolras' voice brought him back from his thoughts to the reality and suddenly he realised that he had been staring at the blond. 

''Oh sorry, I've been thinking about something…'' 

The student smiled slightly. ''Okay… And I'll go now… I have lots of work to do and I have to get up early and you know how hard it is for me.''

''I can wake you up tomorrow. I'm going to work… well, now you know the truth… I'm recording a CD tomorrow and I have to get up early too.'' He didn't lie, did he? 

Enjolras smile grew bigger. ''I'd be really grateful, but I must be at the university at 8 am. Do you think you'll be able to call me at 6:30? I know it'd be really early for you''

''It's okay, I'll call you'' Grantaire grinned at him. Ah, little did Enjolras know…  
  


****

When Enjolras opened his eyes the next day, he had a sinking feeling that something was wrong. He was staring at the ceiling for the while and after few minutes he rolled onto his side and grabbed his phone. And then he noticed what time it was. 7:30. He should have woken up an hour ago. No, no, Grantaire should have woken him up an hour ago. He promised!

In a spurt of manic energy Enjolras took his clothes and ran to the bathroom. He had no time to eat breakfast. The blond passed his father and before the man could react, he grabbed the last bagel from Jean's plate and ran to his car. He was so late. He turned the key and quickly drove out of the garage. Normally he would get to the university by train or underground, but not today. Not when his lectures started in 15 minutes. The blond ignored the buzzing of his phone which had started as soon as he passed the gate of his house. He must had forgotten something. But he couldn't stop now. When he left his car on the car park, he was really late. He quickly entered the lecture hall and sat down on his usual place. The professor was already speaking and Enjolras shot her an apologising look. He didn't want her to be angry at him. 

The blond opened his notebook and sighed - he needed to find a better alarm clock. 

A few hours later Enjolras could finally leave the building. He was tired and hungry. He didn't have time to check his phone nor meet with his friends. The blond sat down on the bench and sighed. He wanted food. He took the bagel out of his bag and started munching it. It was a normal plain bagel but yet it tasted like the best food he had ever eaten. Suddenly he heard someone calling him. The blond turned around and saw grinning and waving at him Feuilly. 

''Hey, Enjy! How are you doing?'' the man asked and sat down beside him.

''Fine, I guess.'' Enjolras muttered before he realised what he had said. He shouldn't have shown Feuilly that he was tired. The red haired man was clearly more tired. ''And what about you? How are you?'' 

''I'm good.'' he said and the grin disappeared from his face. 

''You're lying, Feu. What's wrong?'' the student propped his chin on Feuilly's shoulder and looked at him with a concerned look. 

''It's just… You know…'' the man sighed and wrapped his arm around Enjolras' middle. ''Bahorel is going out with this girl tonight. He says that she's really beautiful and she laughs at his jokes and... he loves when people laughs at his jokes...''

''Oh man…'' Enjolras rose and took Feuilly's hand in his. ''Tell him about your feelings. Please.''

The older man laughed hollowly. ''Stop being naive, Enjy. He would only laugh at me and let me remind you – we live in the same flat. It'd be horrible.''

''You never know, Feuilly.''

''Yeah, whatever. Your phone is buzzing. I think you should check it.''

Enjolras shook his head. ''Later. Now I'm gonna kick your ass for being a coward. You need to get the facts straight – Bahorel has got such an obvious crush on you. Ask him out, take him to the restaurant. If you need money, don't worry, I'll help you.'' 

Feuilly snorted. ''Bahorel would pay for everything. He loves spending money.''

The blond rolled his eyes. ''Now let me remind you something'' he said emphasising the 'me'. ''He indeed loves spending money, but, oh Feuilly, he loves spending money on you! Last week you told me that he bought the new set of Copic markers for you. He took you to the Disneyland just because you told him that you had never been there!'' 

''He did it out of pity.'' Feuilly said and crossed his arms over his chest.

Enjolras drew a breath loudly. ''I'm so done with both of you. Listen to me - on Monday you end your work earlier, right? So buy something to eat and go to his shop! Show him that you care!''

''I can't - my Polish course has just started. And it's on every Monday.'' Feuilly stopped talking and laughed. ''So, one could say that my Mondays are going to be 'polished'.'' 

''Sometimes I wonder why we are friends.'' Enjolras smiled. ''So.. Bahorel has got a gig in Corinth on Sunday. After it, go to him and ask him out!''

''Ahh, fine. But if I die, it's your fault.'' 

The blond laughed and pressed a kiss to Feuilly's cheek. ''I'll somehow survive.'' 

''And now, please, take this phone. It's still buzzing.'' he said and got up from the bench. ''I'll go now. Baz's pug needs love. See you tomorrow at the party!''

''Party?'' Enjolras asked as he tried to find his phone in his bag. 

''Joly? Birthday? Does it ring any bells? Ey are throwing eir party tomorrow.'' 

The blond sighed. ''Oh yeah. I totally forgot about it. Thanks for reminding me.'' he said and he finally pulled out his phone. 5 missed calls, 19 unopened messages from Grantaire and 5 from Cosette. He took a deep breath and started reading them. 

 

**[7:45] Sorry for not waking you up!!!! Forgive me!!!!**

**[7:45] Enjy, I fucked up, sorry**

**[7:50] why wont you answer my calls**

**[8:10] babe**

**[9:46] hello??**

**[9:47] at least tell me if you're okay**

**[10:07] u know what? Fuck it, I'm messaging your sister on facebook.**

 

Enjolras stopped reading and bit his lower lip. Grantaire messaged Cosette? This couldn't end well. He quickly opened messages from his sister and muttered 'fuck' quietly. 

 

**[10:10] ANTOINE GABRIEL ENJOLRAS**

**[10:10] WHY DID NICOLAS FUCKING GRANTAIRE MESSAGED ME AND ASKED ABOUT YOUR WHEREABOUTS?**

**[10:11] AND HE IS WORRIED BCS YOU HAVEN'T MESSAGED HIM?!?!?!??!!**

**[10:11] WE NEED TO TALK, YOUNG MAN**

**[10:12] and also wow he is hot**

 

So now he couldn't go back home… Not when his sister knew about everything and probably wanted to kill him. Great. He opened the messages from Grantaire and continued reading them. 

 

**[10:15] Okay so u are at the uni**

**[10:15] And that's good bcs I was worried that someone kidnapped you or sth.**

**[10:17] But it also means that u are angry at me and thtas why u are not replying**

**[11:39] I have a surprise for youuuuuuuuuuuuuuuu**

**[11:41] And I hope you'll like it bcs if you don't then I’m gonna be personally offended**

**[11:46] But you need to reply if you want to get it**

**[11:47] And this surprise is really nice.**

**[11:48] N-I-C-E**

**[13:47] Yo, bro, I know you don't have any lectures now – I checked your schedule.**

**[13:47] So yeah, call me, please**

**[13:48] Enjyyyyy**

**[13:50] That guy is hot. What's his name?**

 

Guy? Enjolras looked around and wrinkled his forehead. No… this couldn't be true. He picked Grantaire's name from the phone book and clicked on it. Few seconds later he heard Grantaire's cheerful voice. 

''Hi. So you're not angry at me?''

The blond sighed and smiled. ''No, I'm not. But I have to get a new alarm clock.''

The man laughed. ''So you want to fire me? What will I do now?''

''You'll survive somehow. And also.. what guy, Grantaire? I don't understand…''

Enjolras could hear R's laugh. ''The redhead.''

The student's heart skipped a beat and suddenly he didn't know how to breathe. Did Cosette tell R about Feuilly? Maybe all of his friends knew about them? 

''Enjolras? Hello? Are you there?'' 

''Yes, yes… But… what? How do you know about Feuilly?''

''Turn around, honey.''

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Leave comments please!!!  
> And say hi to me on [ TUMBLR ](http://desmoulinx.tumblr.com/)


	5. But if I had an apple to give then it would be yours

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry, I totally forgot about this fic, mostly because I had to finish my project and in my free time I was drawing instead of writing. I'll post the next one soon, because I've already finished it.   
> It's unbeta'd, because I'm so late and I'd only feel bad if I asked my beta to read it. Forgive me. 
> 
>  
> 
> (Lotte, I hope your crops are okay. I love you. I'm so glad I started writing this shit, because thanks to it now I can kick your ass)

Enjolras didn't understand what had just happened, when he had started hugging Grantaire, what the man was doing in Paris. All he knew was that he had heard man telling him to turn around, he saw him, standing in front of him with a smile on his face. Standing in front of him, when he was supposed to be in London. And few seconds later he had his face pressed to R's chest and he could hear man's deep and warm voice.

Enjolras looked up at him and breathed his scent. _What was Grantaire doing here? Did he come to Paris for him?_

"Why are you here?" the blond asked quietly.

R's smile grew bigger. "Because I left something in Paris...?"

Enjolras wrinkled his forehead. "What?"

"My heart." the musician shot him a shit-eating grin and ruffled the student's curly hair.

Enjolras drew a shaky breath. "Ah.. I... That was so cheesy!"

"I know." Grantaire's smile disappeared from his face. "So what about this hot ginger guy? Is he your boyfriend? You two seem to be really close to each other..."

Enjolras watched the change in R's mood with a satisfaction. Was he jealous of Feuilly? The blond wanted to tease him, to tell him that Feuilly was indeed hot. But he couldn't. Because what if it only destroyed his chances to finally tell the man about his feelings?

"No, he is not. He's like my brother. And he... That's a long story." He smiled and carefully wrapped his arms around Grantaire's waist. "What are we going to do now?" He whispered.

"Well I thought you'd tell me! To be honest I'm a little bit hungry. I've woken up at 5! And I had a plane at 12! I spent so many hours at the airport!'' He said and nuzzled his cheek against Enjolras' hair. ''God dammit, I forgot how short you are.''

The blond looked up at him and huffed. ''I'm not that short.''

Grantaire laughed and pressed a kiss to Enjolras' cheek. Somewhere from behind them someone squealed and it only made the blond wrinkle his forehead even more. ''Your fans are jealous.''

''Yeah, they should be. Not everyone can hug you.''

''Agh… Come on, R. You wanted to eat something.'' Enjolras said and grabbed Grantaire's hand. He still couldn't believe that the man was here, that he was so near. 

''We can go to my dad's café.'' He said quietly as he guided the musician. ''And we can order something for lunch there.''

''Oh, will I meet your father? I don't look like a right friend for you.'' Grantaire grinned at Enjolras, who only rolled his eyes and squeezed the man's hand.

''Of course you do, R.'' he said and added when he looked at the dark haired man. ''For how long are you going to stay in Paris?''

''I have a plane on Monday.'' Grantaire replied and let go of Enjolras' hand. The blond sighed quietly. R's hand was so warm and suddenly he was left only with a coldness. But only for a while. Smile returned to his face when Grantaire wrapped his arm around his waist.

''And where are you going to stay? Have you booked any hotel?'' The student pressed his head to R's shoulder.

''Oh… hotel…'' R took his phone out of the pocket and unlocked it quickly.

''What do you think you're doing?''

Grantaire wrinkled his forehead. ''Umm… looking for a hotel?”

''You do know you can stay at my home?'' Enjolras said and soon regretted his words. He should have asked his papa. But after all he was an adult now. The blond drew a breath. Grantaire was his boy… his friend and he could invite him.

''No, no, Enjolras. I'll find some hotel. You live with your family and believe me – you don't want them to see me in the morning. I'm really grum-''

The dark haired man was interrupted by a kiss. Enjolras didn't even know why and when he moved forward and pressed his lips to Grantaire's, but he knew that the musician kissed him back and soon Enjolras' back hit the cold wall of a Parisian building. R's hands were resting on his chest, his fingers playing with a pull of his coat's zipper. Suddenly he heard a chuckle.

''I'm not right for you.'' Grantaire whispered and placed a kiss on the blond's cheek.

''Yes, you're. And you're staying at mine.'' Enjolras tilted his head, his lips touching Grantaire's. He felt man's breath on his skin and if not the coldness and people passing them with suspicious looks on their faces, Enjolras would stay there forever. _Scratch that_ \- he was going to stay there forever. The blond buried his face in the crook of Grantaire's neck and breathed in his scent. God, he missed him.

''Your dad's café is just round a corner, isn't it?''

''Yeah'' Enjolras muttered and slipped his hands under man's brownish coat. ''Did you google it?''

''No.. I mean – yes, I did. But that's not why I asked you.''

The student heard Grantaire sigh. He looked up at him and wrinkled his forehead. ''Hmm...?''

''I think your sister is waving at us and if we stay like this a little bit longer there's a chance that she'll forget about us and let us go and I'll avoid that awkward meeting, please, Enjolras.''

Cosette was indeed standing few metres away from them, her pink hair braided and her nose red from the cold. When her and her brother's eyes met, she finally moved from her place and bounced to them. She looked at both of them, her smile growing bigger and bigger, but she said nothing.

''You must be Cosette. It's pleasure to finally meet. I've heard many great things about you.'' Enjolras looked surprised at Grantaire who broke the uncomfortable silence.

''It's pleasure to meet you too.'' Cosette laughed quietly and ran her fingers through her hair. ''I'd love to say that I've heard great things about you too, but unfortunately someone forgot to tell me about you.'' she said emphasising 'someone'.

''Oh, Cosette, you also don't tell me about many things!''

''Like?'' the girl replies suddenly switching to French.

''Like the fact that dad's dating Javert!'' Enjolras apologised to Grantaire in his head for making the conversation incomprehensible for him.

''But everyone knew it! You're just too stupid! Stupid and annoying! Why didn't you tell me that you two are dating?''

''We're not dating!''

''Ooooh, not dating, you say? That's strange because it looked like you were going to rip his clothes off!''

Suddenly R raised his hand and smiled at the twins. ''Can we use English, please? I have no idea what you've just said.''

''Of course we can, 'Taire. Also let's go inside. You must be starving.'' The blond said and shoot his sister a murderous look. He grabbed Grantaire's hand and marched to the café, opening the door with a loud thump. He scanned the restaurant carefully and as soon as he noticed a small and empty table in a corner, he guided R to it.

''Sit. Choose what you want to eat. Never listen to Cosette.'' he muttered and put his head on the table.

The musician laughed. ''You must know that I totally prefer listening to you, my love.''

A shiver ran down Enjolras' spine. Was Grantaire just so cruel? Was he just playing with him? The blond could feel how warm his cheeks were. ''Umm.. thanks?''

''But really. Your accent is cuter. It's much more French. And you are just… You know… cuter. Your sister is cute too, but yeah - you're cuter.''

''That was really moving. You should write books.''

''I write songs.'' Grantaire smiles cheerfully and put his hand on Enjolras'.

''Antoine! What are you doing here?'' Suddenly Javert's voice ended the idyllic moment. ''You could have told me and your dad that you were com-… that you were coming with your friend.'' The police officer added quickly and glanced at Grantaire.

''Faris,'' Enjolras said in English and looked at his father's partner with a meaningful look. ''this is my friend – Nicolas. He is British and he is going to stay with us for a few days.'' The blond finally drew a breath. The world didn't end, Javert didn't stab him or R with a fork.

''Oh, nice to meet you, Nicolas. I'm Faris Javert. Antoine's dad's boyfriend.'' He said as he shook hands with Grantaire. ''I hope you'll like Paris! Do you want to eat something?''

''Yes, please.'' The dark haired man smiled, clearly less stressed.

''I'll bring something special for you two.'' Javert returned the smile and put his hand on Enjolras' shoulder. ''Antoine, come with me.''

The blond stood up unsteadily. He glanced at Grantaire and followed Javert to the kitchen.

''Can I take croques madame? Nicolas will love them…'' He stopped talking when he noticed look on the policeman's face. ''Can I…?''

The older man looked around as if he thought that someone was listening to them. ''Antoine...'' He said lowering his voice.

Enjolras smiled slightly and sat on the counter top. ''Oh God, I know that he is quite famous! But he's really kind! We met in London!''

Javert wrinkled his forehead. ''Quite famous?''

''Oh, so you didn't want to ask me why Nicolas Grantaire is my friend, do you?'' The blond replied and when he didn't get any answer from him, he spoke once again. ''You don't even know who Nicolas Grantaire is, am I right?''

The man cleared his throat. ''I just wanted to ask you about your relationship with him. You know… Cosette told me that he's your boyfriend…''

''When did she say it?'' Enjolras took a deep breath. _That pink haired idiot…_

''Five minutes ago? She went upstairs, I think. And when she passed me, she told me that you were coming with your boyfriend.''

''I'll kill her.''

''Don't forget that I work at the police, son.'' Javert smiled slightly. ''Antoine, I only want you to kno-''

''I'm 20. You don't have to tell me that I must be careful and never trust people.''

''Let me finish what I wanted to say. I only want you to know that you can always talk to me about any problems. I want you to be happy.''

Enjolras looked at the man with a smile. ''Thank you.''

''So what? Are you two dating? Because I don't know if I should check if he has got a criminal record.''

''You checked criminal records of my teachers!'' The blond laughed. ''And don't tell, papa, please.''

''I won't.'' Javert replied and took the plates from the shelf. ''I asked Louison to make pizza for you. It should be ready soon. Now go to your boyfriend.''

''Thank you and if you tell dad about it, I'll tell him that you don't like his pumpkin soup.'' Enjolras smiled as he walked out of the kitchen, only to find Grantaire deeply engrossed in doing something on his phone.

''Ekhem…'' The student coughed and sat down. ''I hope you like pizza.''

The man hid his phone in his backpack. ''I do.'' He grinned. ''I hope your dad's boyfriend doesn't want to kill me.''

''No, he doesn't.'' The blond returned the smile and a blush crept across his cheeks. His own body betrayed him. But oh god, he could spend his whole life just staring at Grantaire. And listening to his voice. Enjolras hated to admit, but his iTunes was now full of R's songs. He bought as many as he could.

''What are you thinking about?'' Grantaire's voice brought him back to the reality.

''You.'' He blurted without thinking.

''Me? You need better things to think about. Even pizza is hotter.'' R laughed. ''Because you know... pizza is hot. And I'm not.''

''Bullshit.'' Enjolras said and grabbed Grantaire's hand.

The dark haired man looked at him and smiled. ''You're such an enigma to me.''

''Why?''

''Instead of spending time with your young and smart friends, you sit in a restaurant with some wannabe musician.''

Enjolras wrinkled his forehead. He caressed Grantaire's palm and looked into his eyes. ''You're not a wannabe musician. You're an amazing artist. And of course I spend time with you. You know why? Because I like you.'' _I love you_ he wanted to say. He wasn't ready for confessions. Not now.

The blond smiled when he saw blush on R's cheeks. The man bit his lower lip and he laughed after a while. ''I think our pizza is coming.''

They ate in silence, buzzing from Grantaire's phone being the only sound. Finally after some minutes, Enjolras looked up and sighed.

''Maybe you'll read those messages?'' He said pointing at the man's phone.

R smiled and shook his head. ''Later. It's just my sister. She is babysitting today. Also, do you have any plans for today? Or the weekend? I don't want to impose, I know I came here without an invitation!''

''I haven't got any plans,'' The blond smiled. ''we can spend the whole weekend together… Or wait… I forgot about a party!''

Grantaire wrinkled his forehead. ''The party?''

''Yes! My friend's birthday party!''

''That's fine! You can go to the party and I'll go to some museums! I've never seen Mona Lisa.''

Enjolras smiled slightly. ''We'll go to Louvre today and you'll go with me to the party tomorrow.''

''But Enjolras… I don't even know them.''

''And? It doesn't matter, R! They are really nice! Plus you'll finally meet Courfeyrac!''

Grantaire exhaled loudly. ''Enjolras..''

''You'll love them.''

''Are they as annoying as you are?''

''I'm not annoying!''

''You're, blondie.'' R smiled. ''But fine. I'll go.''

 

 

 

 

 


End file.
